On Seeing The Important Things

I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

—Ephesians 3:17–19

One month in the fall, we hosted two showers and a rehearsal dinner; I made a job transition; a friend got married, another celebrated her thirtieth birthday, another found out she was pregnant, and another adopted a newborn; and my husband had his wisdom teeth removed.

Aaron needed more gauze. I flew out the door, and raced through the store, throwing things in the cart. When I got home, he told me that I bought the wrong gauze. I stomped out the door, and then I stopped in my tracks. Across the street, one of the tallest trees, twice as high as a two-story house, was the brightest, lit-from-within red I have ever seen. I had not noticed one step of its turning.

I had stopped seeing the important things. I saw the to-do list. I had gifts to buy and people to celebrate. But I wasn’t seeing the people or the celebrations. I wasn’t seeing anything beyond the chaos of my life.